


Band Nerds || BBS

by EternalSpirit786



Series: The Banana Band Squad [1]
Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: First Fanfiction, I CAME UP WITH THE INSTRUMENT PAIRINGS IM SORRY, I dont know how fanfictions work, M/M, None of this is real, Please Kill Me, band!au, basically the crew is divided among three schools, dont be afraid to hate on my writing, im terrornuckel trash, wowie its a band thing, you can tell ive never posted a fanfiction before
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-09 03:48:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12268248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EternalSpirit786/pseuds/EternalSpirit786
Summary: They say that whatever instrument you master has a connection to you.---when the most rowdy group of boys - become a bunch of musical nerds.





	Band Nerds || BBS

"Is it bad that I think Reecher's band is better than ours?" 

Brock heard Craig's nervous chuckle. He sighed and shook his head, a smile forming on his lips.

"Nope, not at all." Brock laughed, and Craig smiled back at him. "I think that, too."

They both turned back to the band in question. They were playing a concert scale flawlessly, and Brock couldn't help but stare in wonder as the entire band rose in key, blending the notes seamlessly. Not a single instrument - or player, for that matter - was off key. He cringed, thinking about how bad his band was.

"These Reecher kids are so good at whatever they play.. they're going to provincials for sure." Another student, Sean, or preferably Jack, whispered to someone Brock didn't know. He couldn't help but agree with the Irishman, despite not knowing who he was talking to.

Suddenly the playing stopped, and a few moments later, the announcer took his post. 

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please stand as the Reecher Prep band plays their school anthem. Thank you." 

_They have a school anthem?_ Brock thought. _I want to go to this school already._

Following David's example, he stood up with the rest of the crowd, helping Craig up who was clueless about what was going on. Brock heard Craig yelp as someone's instrument collided with his, and Craig immediately inspected the tiny dent on his clarinet, a frown on his face as soon as he spotted it. Brock laughed at his actions. When the band started playing, Craig bolted upwards, making Brock lose his balance. He learned on David as Craig apologized, making the taller man question them. 

Brock sighed, shaking his head with a soft smile, and turned to the band, enjoying the sweet melody. It was a soft anthem, different in its own way.

The band ended the anthem in a single note for eight beats, the brass instruments growing louder and the woodwinds growing softer. A single, low note followed, and the conductor swung his arms into a crescent shape, slowly bringing them down. The players let their instruments rest on their laps, and the auditorium erupted in cheers and claps.

"That was only their first performance," David spoke through his thick accent, "imagine how good the main songs would be!"

The announcer spoke once the conductor lifted his arms back into the air, the Reecher band silently raising their instruments along.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, you may now be seated. Now, the Reecher Prep band will play the "Flying Theme" or the extended version of "Test Drive" from the movie "How to Train Your Dragon"." With the audience seated, Brock began smiling with excitement as the band stood up from their seats on the stage. 

_I love that movie!_ It was Brock's childhood, and even now he would listen to the soundtrack a few times. The soundtrack itself is amazing.

The conductor swung his baton four times before the low brass began the song, followed by the percussionists who backed up the beginning on the song with a steady beat.  
The staccato flute solo began, delivering the melody with a soft consistency of notes. The other flutes joined in to repeat the melody, and soon after, during the third repeat, the rest of the band joined in. The low brass kept giving blows of low notes in the perfect places. The song is exactly like how he remember it.

After the short introduction, a piccolo flute player began walking away from the group he used to be in, and the band got softer seamlessly as the piccolo flute began it's legato solo, accompanied by the short bursts of tones by the low brass players.

After four bars of the solo, the band harmonized again, and the piccolo flute player joined another group of band players. They harmonized in a beautiful melody boldly, not a single instrument out of key. 

The second solo began, and this time, Brock was surprised how quiet the band seemed compared to the power this trumpet player had. He scanned to band to see a single trumpet player stand in the front and center of the stage, playing the trumpet solo flawlessly.

Brock could see the way his fingers dipped to push each key of the trumpet down, altering the sound that came out of the instrument. He saw that he was smiling while he was playing the solo, the entire band around him waiting patiently with the soft drum roll. Brock couldn't help but smile at the player, his smile being wiped off as soon as the solo ended and he followed what the piccolo flute player did, joining another group while the entire band harmonized again.

In Brock's ears, the music was perfect, but so was the trumpet player that Brock had watched. Craig had noticed that Brock's eyes were glued to one specific player, and he smirked.

Brock shivered as he felt Craig's elbow nudge his side, jolting upwards to slap the Brit. Craig began snickering quietly as Brock stopped himself, huffing and turning back to the stage, sighing when he couldn't find the player again.

 _Thanks a lot, Craig..._ Brock thought. He couldn't concentrate on the song the band was playing. All the could think about was _him_. The trumpet player who had caught Brock's eyes. Brock didn't even know what his name was.

Brock heard the familiar solo, and looked up eagerly to find the player, spotting him for as long as the solo was until he had disappeared into the huge band again. 

Brock couldn't get over how crisp, clean, and powerful the trumpet's noise was compared to his shabby flute. It was such a quiet instrument.

People say that whatever instrument you master has a specific connection to you. 

The quiet and softness of his flute reminded Brock of himself. 

_How come the piccolo flute player got his flute to be so loud?_

__

__

_Then again, it is a piccolo flute._

Brock was suddenly startled when he heard cheering and claps abruptly begin from around him. Then he realized that the band had stopped playing.

They played "Viva la Vida" and the "Star Wars: Raiders March" after. Reecher's definitely going to win.

Brock had spotted the trumpet player a few more times during both the other performances. Not much to his surprise, he was also assigned solos in the other two songs.

In the end of the competition, when the judges determined the winners, there was a period of time dedicated to talking to other bandsmen of different schools. 

Brock was determined to get to know the amazing trumpet guy, but he needed to make his exchange subtle because of Craig following him around. He searched for a group wearing a sandy beige and turquoise - the Reecher Prep colours - band shirt, and he finally found a bunch of them, freezing when he saw David and a few others talking to them.

"Hey, Craig, Brock, I have a few friends I'd like you to meet!" David cheered gleefully, and dragged the two confused boys to a short boy wearing one of those beige and turquoise shirts. On his shirt, a white emblem saying "Reecher Prep Advanced Band" and a treble clef in the center crowned his chest, where a chest pocket would be on a polo shirt. Brock recognized him as the piccolo flute person, and the grip on his own flute tightened.

"Hi," Craig began. "I'm Craig, and this is Brock." Brock waved awkwardly. The short piccolo flute player scanned them both, before smiling. 

"I'm Lui. Piccolo flute."

"Cool. I play the clarinet, and Brock plays the normal flute." Brock and Lui laughed as Craig classified Brock's flute as "normal".

"Lui, right?" Brock asked. He noticed that David wasn't there anymore. Lui nodded. "How do you get your flute to be so loud?"

Lui thought for a second. "You need to really tighten your embouchure to get strong gusts of wind out of your mouth. That's basically it...?" Lui asked rather than answered, questioning himself. Then he added, "yeah. That's it."

"Oh. Thanks."

"Hey! You guys should meet some of my other bandmates! Come on!" Lui squealed, David forgotten by this point. Craig seemed hesitant, but followed Lui after Brock.

"You guys! This is Brock and Craig from the same school David goes to!"

Two boys turned around. The first one, a middle-sized (taller than Craig, at least), somewhat buff Asian smiled widely. 

"Hey! I'm Evan!"

"Evan's" smile didn't shrink - it grew wider - if that was even possible.

"He's a snare drum." Lui pointed at Evan using his thumb, gesturing at his wooden drum sticks.

Evan's eyes widened as he shook his head, sticking up an index finger as if he was proving a point. "Technically, I qualify for all the percussion instruments, but I take advanced sn-" 

"Yeah yeah yeah, you can play multiple instruments. So can we, Evy boy." The second boy rolled his eyes. His dark chocolate-brown hair matched his eyes.

"The salty guy over there is Marcel - clarinet, like Craig." Lui waved at the second boy, "Marcel".

"Ayyy, clarinet fam!" Marcel winked at Craig, earning a roll of eyes from Evan and Lui. Brock and Craig chuckled. 

"Best instrument ever." Craig snickered.

Marcel clicked his tongue before winking. "You betcha."

"That's not true," Brock huffed. 

"I've got to agree with flute boy with that one," Brock was startled as he heard a new voice - an Irish accent thinly veiled with British - speak joyfully. 

A third boy smirked at Brock, and Brock almost gasped when he recognized the trumpet solo guy. 

"Flute boy?" Marcel questioned his nickname, slinging his arm across the Irishman's pale neck, letting his hand crown his turquoise and beige shoulder. 

Brock finally noticed his hair - an elegant, slicked wave of dark and golden-browns cascading above his forehead, stopping near the tops of his eyebrows. His sides were perfectly combed back.

"Sorry. I didn't stick around for the introductions." He smiled softly, showing off a set of vibrant, pearly teeth. "I'm Brian. And this sweet baby," Brian held his trumpet triumphantly, "is my instrument."

Brian snapped out of his stance, and his gaze rested on Craig before he chuckled. 

"Hi, Craig."

 _They know each other?!_ Brock thought as a blush crept up in his cheeks.

"Ayyy, Brian. Suh, dude?"

Evan rolled his eyes. "Stop with the memes, Craig."

"Thank God someone said it. Now, where'd David go?" Lui looked around the crowd, eyes widening when no sign of the Irishman was found.

"Hey, Brian! Those solos were great!"

Everyone turned to see Jack running towards them, his own trumpet clung tightly in his hand. 

"Haha, thanks. Do you know where David is, by any chance?" Brian asked, smiling at the other Irishman fondly.

"David? I saw him talking to one of the Crossers kids, 'Luke', I think it was." Jack offered, his fingers lightly brushing his chin.

"Oh. Okay. Thanks, Jack." Brian smiled at the other Irishman before giving him a quick hug. The other boy smiled before running away to talk to more people.

Evan sighed. "Do we go look for him now?"

Marcel replied with a "no," the same time Lui cried out, "yes!". This caused the group to laugh. Lui shot Marcel a stern glare. Marcel simply laughed. 

"Uh, how about we go find him for a few minutes. If we can't, then we'll just sit around and talk amongst ourselves more." Brock suggested, growing hotter when he felt Brian's gaze land on him. It was uncomfortable, but he liked that feeling.

Evan's eyes lit up. "That's a great idea, Brock. I have a few friends in Crossers, and I know a guy named Luke who plays low-brass. We could go find him!"

"How can we find Luke in this mess of, I don't know, three hundred people?" Marcel exhilarated, flailing his arms everywhere.

"Don't worry. We'll find him." Brian smirked at Marcel, who turned away from him with an unimpressed face. 

"Then let's a go!" Craig quoted Mario, then began skipping, earning laughs from Marcel and Brian, and a groan from Lui. Evan shook his head fondly, and Brock trailed behind, confused. 

Brock sighed, startled when he felt someone tap his shoulder. 

"Sorry. Did I scare you?" Brian looked at him apologetically, offering a soft smile to him. Brock smiled back and shook his head, his ears turning red in embarrassment. 

"Brock, right?" Brock nodded, suddenly feeling hot. The way his name rolled off of the Irish boy’s tongue... "That's a cool flute you've got there. Your band did great." Brian smiled happily. 

Brock was surprised to hear such an amazing player praising him, but he ended up smiling nonetheless.

"T-thanks, but you did so much better." Brock finally gathered the courage to look straight into his bright blue eyes. 

He was stunned as he lost himself in an ocean of stars, twinkling and shining bright against his blue eyes. He found Brian looking at him with a questioning expression, and he added, "I mean, I've never heard a trumpet that powerful before. You've got serious skill." Brock saw that Brian's formerly pale cheeks began turning red.

"Oh, t-thanks." Brock was taken aback. 

How could such a confident person stutter? 

"It's mostly practise, really." Now, Brock could really see Brian's blush as the Irishman avoided Brock's gaze. 

Without saying another word, but instead, smiling at Brock, Brian sped towards Marcel, both of them engaging in a conversation almost instantly. 

Brock felt saddened that Brian had left. Did he do something wrong? He felt a slender arm sling around his neck, and he instantly knew who it was.

"Crush on the solo guy, heh?" Craig smirked. 

"N-No..." Brock whispered, looking at Craig with disbelief in his eyes. 

He couldn't possibly like Brian. 

Could he?

Craig chuckled before he looked straight into Brock's eyes. 

"You totally like him." 

Craig left Brock, confused, scared, and lovestruck about Brian.

Brock sighed.

He really, really wanted to go to Reecher Prep now.

**Author's Note:**

> pshhh okayyy I'm done  
> This is basically just a test?? I'm not really sure myself xD  
> Tell me about how much my writing sucks in the comments. :,D
> 
> \---
> 
> Word count: 2354 words.


End file.
